


Ballet And Tattoos

by Gothic_Lolita



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Bucky Barnes-centric, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Tony Being Tony, bucky is a dork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 04:49:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13733493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothic_Lolita/pseuds/Gothic_Lolita
Summary: Bucky's just a ballet dancer who wants to get by in life. And then he meets the damned prettiest tattoo artist he's ever seen.





	Ballet And Tattoos

**Author's Note:**

> So I got this idea from an AU created entirely by L'aterlier d'Eriot on Tumblr, however, their work is all fanart of it, so I thought I'd try writing a fic for it.  
> http://latelierderiot.tumblr.com/tagged/TheOtherBalletAU Here's the link to their AU, which I LOVE.  
> http://latelierderiot.tumblr.com/ And here's the link to their Tumblr. Go give them all the love, they deserve it.

Bucky was rushing to get to the Red Star, the ballet company he worked for. He had a class in five minutes, and he was going to be late if he didn’t get his ass in gear. Almost there, if he could just-

Bucky swore six ways to Sunday when he crashed into another body, inadvertently dumping his smoothie all over himself and them.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to dump my breakfast all over you!” Bucky said, cringing.

“I didn’t know a smoothie constituted as a full breakfast.” A silky baritone chuckled, and Bucky found himself looking at one of the goddamned prettiest men he’d ever seen.

He was about a foot shorter than Bucky and substantially smaller but covered in colourful tattoos, piercings, with a pair of black glasses and an 80s band wife beater with ripped jeans to top it off. On anyone else, it would’ve looked annoyingly hipster, but with a styled beard and wild chocolate hair, he pulled it off stunningly well. And fuck, Bucky was about to lose himself in those whiskey eyes. Bucky felt dull and almost shameful now, in his black yoga pants and a loose tank top, hair in a bun.

“I’m kind of in a hurry,” Bucky said when he could finally get the words out. “I have a class to get to…” Bucky’s words trailed off, and he felt his entire face heat up. Fuck, when did he stop being smooth with this kind of stuff?

The tattooed guy quirked an eyebrow. “Class?”

“I teach ballet.” Bucky rushed to explain, then inwardly cringed. Whatever credibility he had, he just lost by admitting he taught ballet to this very masculine seeming stranger.

  
“Oh right, at the Red Star, right?” The guy asked. “I work across the street, at Iron Ink.” He switched a portfolio to his other hand so he could extend his right one for a shake. “Tony, Tony Stark.”

Above all, Bucky was startled that Tony’s voice seemed sincere, with no condescending layer to it. “Bucky, Bucky Barnes.” Bucky accepted the handshake, voice a bit dumbfounded.

Tony laughed. “I think you have a class to get to, Bucky. I’ll see you around.” He winked, then disappeared down the street, into the tattoo parlour.

Bucky watched him go, captivated. He would’ve just stood there all day, thinking about Tony, but he did have a class. Bucky rushed into the Red Star, getting ready to teach.

 

* * *

 

“I’m telling you, he was fucking gorgeous. Like, I didn’t think they made people that pretty.” Bucky moaned, sipping his smoothie. He was at his favourite coffee shop with Steve and Sam. Steve and Bucky had been best friends since they were kids, and Steve recently befriended Sam. Steve had introduced Sam and Bucky, thinking that as they were both dancers, they’d get along well. He didn’t take into consideration the rivalry between ballet dancers, Bucky, and break dancers, Sam. They were constantly trying to kill each other.

“Did you get his number, contact information, anything besides his name?” Steve asked, arching an eyebrow. Steve had a sort of punk look, with dyed hair, piercings, and tattoos. Not as many as Tony, though.

“Nope.” Bucky sighed, staring at his cup.

“Smooth, Barnes, smooth,” Sam said, smirking. Bucky damn near threw his smoothie at him.

Bucky let his head fall against the table with a thunk. “What am I supposed to do? Walk into Iron Ink, just hoping to see Tony? I don’t want a tattoo. It’d be weird.”

Steve thought a moment. “I could always call in an appointment. I’ve been looking at getting a new tattoo, anyway. I got a nice bonus for that sketch I did for Shield Post.” Steve was an artist, and unlike most, he made a decent wage off of it.

“Would you?” Bucky’s eyes lit up.

“Of course, jerk,” Steve said, punching his arm.

“Can I come? I wanna watch Barnes fail at getting a date.” Sam piped up. Bucky grabbed Sam’s coffee and threw it at him.

 

* * *

 

A few days later Bucky was nervously fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, following Steve and Sam into Iron Ink. He wore something more casual this time, whitewash jeans and a Henley, but he was still nervous it was too… too boring. 

“Hey, I’m Steve Rogers. I should have a three o’clock appointment with Tony?” Steve walked up to the desk, flashing a bright smile.

The woman behind the desk was a bright redhead, with simple but captivating geometric designs tattooed on her skin. “Hello, welcome to Iron Ink. Tony’s running a bit late, per usual, but I promise he should be here soon.” Her tone held a mild annoyance, but it seemed to be more so directed toward Tony rather than Steve.

The door busted open, the bell ringing as Tony stumbled into the parlour, coffee in one hand and a shopping bag in the other. “Am I late?”

“As always.” The redhead scowled at him, but she had a small smile.

Tony set down his bag and coffee, facing the trio. “Alright, who and what am I inking?”

“Me, Steve Rogers.” Steve held out his hand, smiling.

“Tony Stark, nice to meet you.” Tony grinned, accepting the shake. Jesus, why the hell was he so pretty?

Steve pulled out a sketch, showing it to Tony. “So I was thinking something like this, but maybe with a more vibrant colour palette?”

The two went into talking out the details of the tattoo when Sam elbowed Bucky in the side. 

“He isn’t that pretty, man. He’s like, basic hipster.” Sam said, shrugging.

Bucky jabbed him back, harder. “Shut up, asshole.”

“Whatever you say, pixie.” Sam shot back. It always came back to dance, didn’t it?

“At least I have form and poise.” Bucky scowled, crossing his arms.

Sam scoffed. “Form? Form my-”

“Enough you two.” Steve didn’t look up from whatever he and Tony were talking about. Sam and Bucky both shut up, but spent the entire time glaring at each other.

Steve and Tony made polite conversation, then it got passionate, as they started talking about art while Tony did the tattoo. Bucky had to hold in a starstruck sigh, watching the way Tony’s eyes lit up as he talked about his passion.

“Alright, there we go!” Tony finished up, wiping the fresh tattoo clean. “Look good?”

“Yeah, I love it.” Steve grin, admiring his new tattoo in the mirror. It was an eagle, right on his shoulder. Damned patriotic punk.

Tony got to work bandaging it. “This doesn’t look like your first rodeo, so I’m assuming you already know all the details and shit about taking care of it, right?”

“Yes,” Steve said, pulling out his wallet to pay. He paid the bill and got ready to leave. 

“Oh! One more thing!” Tony glanced up, putting away his tools. “Not for you though, Steve.” Bucky frowned.

Tony grabbed a rose from a bouquet sitting on the counter. “I was hoping I might see you again.” Tony winked at Bucky, then held the rose out. “Would you care to go out on a date with me, Bucky?”

In that moment, Bucky forgot almost every word in the English language. “I… yes. Yeah, I’d love to.” Bucky blushed, biting his lip, before taking the rose. “Do I-do you have a date or time?”

Tony thought a moment. “How does Friday sound?”

“I have a few classes, but I’ll be done at six,” Bucky said, fiddling with the rose. 

Tony smiled, and it was one of the brightest things Bucky had ever seen. “Sounds great, I’ll pick you up at Red Star then. We’ll have dinner at this little Italian restaurant that’s my favourite.” He practically sang, bouncing on his feet.

“Sounds great.” Bucky echoed, his cheeks hurting from his grin.

Steve dragged him and Sam out of the tattoo parlour. “See? That wasn’t so hard.” Steve said, giving Bucky an approving smile. “He seems nice. It’ll go great.”

“Yeah, if your awkward ass doesn’t fuck it up.” Sam snorted. Bucky smacked him.

 

* * *

 

Bucky was just finishing up a conversation with Natalie when he saw Tony out of the corner of his eye, standing in the doorway.

Natalie was one of Bucky’s best students, and had been with him for so long he knew her as Natalie. Most people called her Natasha after she had a nasty falling out with her family and changed her name, leaving her past behind her. Bucky didn’t begrudge her for it, she came from a dark place.

“I’ll see you next week, Nat,” Bucky said, and the redhead smiled at him, grabbing her bag. She glanced at Tony and gave Bucky a knowing look before walking out the door.

“I don’t think it’s possible for someone to look so handsome in ballet clothes.” Tony mused, walking toward Bucky, now that they were the only ones left in the dance studio.

Bucky tried to hide his shy smile.”I know it’s not the manliest look but-”

“Darling, if I’d wanted manly, I’d go pick up some beefcake at the gym.” Tony waved him off before Bucky could even finish. “And besides, look at you. You’re what, six foot and a solid wall of muscle. Ballet or no ballet, I wouldn’t wanna be the guy who gets into a fist fight with you.” He teased. 

Bucky grinned in spite of himself. “Let me change, and I’ll be right with you doll.”

 

* * *

 

“So what got you into tattoos?” Bucky asked, stabbing his salad with a fork. The place Tony had taken him to was nice but homely. 

Tony laughed. “It’s actually a funny story. My father, he was strict as all hell. So naturally, I was rebellious. And as a rebellious teenager, I thought the epitome of cool was having a tattoo, so at sixteen I snuck out one night and got one. After that, I fell in love with tattoos, learning how to make them and all that. When I was twenty I moved out, starting up Iron Ink. My father was furious, I was supposed to inherit the family company, Stark Industries. I could be a billionaire right now if I wanted.” He shrugged. “But I like this life better.”

“Stark Industries? You’re that Stark?” Bucky’s eyes went wide. He’d recognized the name but figured it was probably just a common last name. 

“Yep,” Tony said, twirling his pasta. “What about you, ballet dancer? How’d you find your passion?”

Bucky paused, staring at his food. “Well, I didn’t think much of it when I was younger. I went straight into the military when I was eighteen, figured that’s where I’d spend most of my career. Then I…” Bucky sighed, holding back a shudder. “I went to war, and… I…”

“You didn’t come back the same.” Tony finished, seeming to understand Bucky’s discomfort.

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, you could say that. I came back… broken, I guess. PTSD, nightmares, depression. I was barely living. My friend Steve -the one you tattooed the other day- he was desperate to try to get me active, shoving me into all sorts of activities supposed to destress. Ballet was the one that stuck. It’s calming, keeps me sane when I need it.” He admitted, fingers fidgeting.

Tony’s smile seemed less happy-go-lucky, but deeper, with more emotion. “I’m glad you found something that makes you happy.”

Bucky stared at Tony, tilting his head to the side, taking in those whiskey eyes. “So am I.”

 

* * *

 

“And then for a pirouette, you just…” Bucky put his lands on Tony’s hips, lifting him up onto his tiptoes. “Hands folded over your chest, foot up on your other knee…”

Tony tried to get into position, but only stumbled, falling back into Bucky’s arms. “I don’t seem to be cut out for this.” Tony chuckled, looking up at Bucky.

After their date, Tony and Bucky had wandered back to Red Star, because Tony had wanted to see Bucky dance. Bucky was now trying to show Tony some steps, but failing miserably.

“It takes awhile to learn.” Bucky consoled Tony, righting him again. “It’s not like I could make a good tattoo.”

Tony laughed. “I’m sure you could if you tried.” He slid out of Bucky’s grasp, doing a crude mock of a few ballet steps. “Is ballet the only dance you know?”

“I teach a basic ballroom class,” Bucky said. “And I know swing. And I happen to have a knack for pole dancing if that counts.” He smirked, tone suggestive in every way.

Tony paused in his movements, glancing over his shoulder. “Oh, it definitely counts. I’m going to need a demonstration, though.” He hummed, casting Bucky a groin-stirring look.

“You can hold me to that,” Bucky promised, sneaking up on Tony to pick him up by the waist, spinning him around.

Tony squealed, throwing his head back with laughter. “I think I will, darling.” His hands reached forward to cradle either side of Bucky’s face, light glinting off his piercings.

Bucky ended up being the one to make the first move in the kiss, but Tony was more than enthusiastic about reciprocating. Bucky had never kissed someone with lip (or tongue) piercings, but it was certainly a feeling he could get used to. 

Tony was a feeling Bucky could get used to.

**Author's Note:**

> Have I mentioned how much I fucking love this AU?


End file.
